


Even Avengers Get The Creeps

by MarvelLitChick



Series: Maybe Life is Just One Big Marathon... [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Tony Stark Is Not Helping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 23:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelLitChick/pseuds/MarvelLitChick
Summary: Darcy's pretty sure that clicking her heels together and repeating the phrase "Werewolves are not real" isn't actually going to work. But she's sure as hell going to try anyway. An Avengers Halloween Extravaganza. Part 11 of my Marathon Series.





	Even Avengers Get The Creeps

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I missed you! And I've been working hard on a Halloween fic for you! I'll just...leave this here. Hope you have fun with it, it's just a little tidbit!  
> Don't own Marvel.  
> Loves!  
> Sarah

 

If anything was higher than Christmas on Darcy’s list of Favorite Holidays, it was Halloween. And it wasn’t about the candy. It wasn’t about the horror movies on HBO. No, she avoided those like the plague, lest she lie awake for two weeks, listening to Bucky breathing and jumping at any bump in the night. And it certainly wasn’t about the parties.

No. It was the nostalgia.

It was the dressing up just for the hell of it, and the silly songs on the radio. It was the decorations and the flood of themed foods and snacks in the stores. It was crunching orange leaves littering the walkways in Central Park with Bucky and watching Max dive into the piles gathered around the trees like bed skirts.

It was the sweaters and the smell of decomposition in nature, that musty, sweet smell as the leaves shriveled and the blood of the trees sank below the surface to sleep out the coming winter. It was the cuddling under a blanket wearing Bucky’s cardigan by the sunny window and watching the leaves blow around on the sidewalk far below, a book in one hand and hot tea in the other, the nip in the air when they went to get coffee.

It was the cooking.

She lifted the lid on the huge pot on the stove and took a deep breath.

“ _Put…_ that lid back on!” Bucky scolded her from across the room, leaning on the living room door jamb.

She jumped, caught red-handed, and set it back down with a soft, metallic _shing_. “Sorry,” she muttered, blushing. “It smells so good.”

He came into the room, ducking one of the decorations she’d been hanging. “Ma’s chili always did draw distant acquaintances outta the woodwork. But it has to simmer for the rest of the afternoon, or the flavors won’t marry. So no touching that pot, missy.” He shook a finger at her, smirking.

She raised a brow. “Listen to you with the culinary talk. You watching The Food Network when I’m working late?”

He chuckled, finally joining her, and reached around to adjust the temperature dial on the stovetop. “No. But no more touching this lid, Barnes.”

Her heart did a little tap dance in her chest, suffusing it with warmth at the use of the name they shared as a pet name. That was relatively new and she liked it. “Yes, Sergeant.”

He raised an eyebrow back at her. “Don’t be cheeky.”

She smirked. “Why not? It’s so fun to get you hot under the collar.”

Smiling, he leaned down to kiss her, once, chastely, on the mouth. “And I fall for it every time.”

They kissed for a moment.

Finally he sighed, pulling away and fixing her with a wry look. “You done decorating yet?”

They both turned to survey the apartment, already adorned, here and there, with Halloween knickknacks, the odd wooden sign or ceramic pumpkin. He curled his human arm around her waist and scratched affectionately at her waist through her shirt, a thin, worn-soft Abbey Road tee.

This was all in addition to the other subtle changes she’d made since their June wedding. More photographs had gone up on the left wall, an assortment of black and white wedding photos and cute candid shots in low-profile frames.

The photographer—who’d turned out to just be Tony stalking them with his fancy Stark-designed camera app—had snuck around the inn after their quiet, no-frills nuptials, taking pictures when he could, only to surprise them with a full set two weeks later. Not only had he snapped her personal favorite—a shot of them with their backs to the camera, when they’d been out on the deck, tucked against each other—but numerous other shots that she just couldn’t resist hanging up.

 Bucky, kissing her cheek as they’d stood framed in the front window immediately following the quiet departure of the priest. Hand in hand on a short walk around the wooded property, the lace of her short train sweeping the grass behind her.

It felt sweet and comforting to hang them up where she could see them every day. Somehow Tony had managed to capture the essence of them in just a few shots—and shots they hadn’t even known he’d been taking. But Tony, for all his snark and bluster, was a surprisingly deep and intuitive guy, and he’d captured the essence of their relationship with his JARVIS camera: quiet. Bucky’s love was quiet. Their relationship was quiet and calm, but tough as nails.

So she’d hung up those pictures not long ago, smiling as she set the hammer aside and straightened the frames, smiling as she admired the sweeping shape she’d created on the wall, and still smiling later when Bucky came in and immediately noticed her work.

They’d made other changes to the space. A few more blankets. Bucky had found a few records on vinyl at a resale shop on 6th and added them to their collection. They’d agreed to replace the runner in the hall and both zeroed in on a thick blue rug to give Max some traction against the hardwood.

They’d added a bookcase that was almost immediately filled, against the wall kitty-corner and the crystal vase they’d gotten as a wedding gift from Pepper (because Tony had clearly had nothing to do with it) held a place of honor on top, currently filled with a dozen red roses Bucky had surprised her with a few days before. She thought no matter what else happened in their life together, if he kept managing to weaken her knees with red roses, they’d find a way to be happy.

One of Max’s beds—a little wraparound cave with a zipper—was tucked into the corner that got the most sunlight, beside his bucket of toys.

It was really starting to look like a home—not that it hadn’t before, but as a bachelor, Bucky hadn’t thought to do too much to it other than the bare minimum. Growing up during The Depression and then living a soldier’s life had kicked the habit of sparseness into him.

But was she done _decorating_?! For _Halloween_?!

She set her head on his shoulder. “Not even close. That spider too low for ya?” She pointed to the cartoony, purple and orange spider she’d hung over the doorway just a few moments prior, while he’d been in the shower after his late morning sparring session with the guys. It had long, stretchy, black cartoony legs designed to brush whoever passed beneath and huge googly eyes.

“A little, yeah.”

“Too bad, mister.”

He laughed. “You finish packing?”

She nodded. “This morning, while you were in the shower.”

He cocked a brow at her. “Oh, is _that_ why you didn’t join me?”

She let loose a low laugh, the kind she knew had the power to drive him crazy. “I can’t join you all the time or we’d never get anything done.” She smirked. “Are you kidding, Barnes? You’re like crack.”

He laughed, his nose scrunching.

“You think I’m kidding, that’s funny.” She kept on, shrugging. “Besides, I figured we’ll be out in the wilderness, so we’ll have plenty of time to cozy up. Didn’t wanna tire you out before we even left.”

He still chuckled as he slid his hands into the back pockets of her jeans and pressed them closer. “Ah. I see. Delayed gratification. It all makes sense.”

She nodded, pressing her front against him, reveling in the warmth and the hope that she’d never get tired of him like this, never get bored. “Exactly.”

“I’m surprised you’re excited about this whole project of Tony’s. You’re not into kids.”

She poked him in the chest. “Hey, that makes two of us, Barnes.” She shrugged. “But it seems like a cool idea, going out to the underprivileged campground and letting the kids Trick-or-Treat. I mean, it’s always fun picking out all the different costumes. And it’s the end of the season for them, so they get one last hurrah, we get the place to ourselves in a cabin in the woods. Should be cozy and fun, a little mini-vacation.”

Tony had cooked up the idea over the summer, striking a deal with the local campground up in Adirondack Park. The Forest Preserve had a campground around Lake Flower strictly for hosting summer camps for underprivileged kids, and much to his relief, part of the team had jumped at the chance to come along with him on a trip and do something that didn’t involve bloodshed for a change.

Clint stayed back with Laura to host a Halloween party with the kids and had been working tirelessly for the past week to set up a haunted corn maze at the farm. He’d been like a ghost at the Tower, they’d seen him so little.

Jane, Wanda, and Maria were staying back, likely to gossip, bitch about her and watch a Freddie Prince Jr movie from the nineties over margaritas, and Darcy wondered if they might also use the excuse to dig around and find out who Sam had recently started dating.

Bruce had so very clearly used the excuse that he had a study he was working on that he just couldn’t leave for an entire weekend, but not only did he not like kids much (and who could blame him?) but Darcy had overheard him on the phone the week before making plans and sounding _very_ happy with what her enhanced hearing told her was a female companion. Betty was in town.

So it was just their cozy core group going on holiday this time.

And after a week filled with press conferences, board meetings, and the odd smoking, semi-combustible non-problem, Darcy was packed and they were all piling into a quinjet early the next morning for a weekend getaway.

“It’s weird that it’s not cooler out,” Natasha said as they hit cruising altitude, glancing down at the still green land far, far below them.

New York had been enjoying a recent late-summer spell, and the rain that had set in earlier in October had let up for the warm front, allowing just a little more sunshine and greenery before true autumn set in. It was supposed to be in the low eighties all weekend, regardless of the orangey-red leaves raining down and gathering for conferences on sidewalks.

“Well, regardless of my health, I hate the winter,” Steve grumbled, scowling out the window, as though the earth’s temporal patterns were a direct offense. “I’ve had my fill of pneumonia, thank you very much.”

Bucky snorted as he shifted in his bucket seat, rolling his eyes at Darcy. “Yeah, well, so has the guy who once went four days without sleep, making sure your sorry ass didn’t die.”

Tony chuckled. “You’ve gone without sleep longer than _that_ before, there, _Winter Soldier_.”

Bucky gave him a slit-eyed look, but let his would-be father-in-law get away with the name he usually only tolerated from his wife. “The difference being that part wasn’t _voluntary_.”

Tony turned from the pilot’s chair to give him a teasing look. “ _Wasn’t_ it, though?”

Bucky, a betraying smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, leaned forward to kick at the back of his chair. “Watch it, Stark.”

“Well, I’m just glad we’re finally taking a vacation, together,” Darcy added, steering the topic of conversation in another direction.

Tony raised a finger and opened his mouth—

“A vacation _we’re all supposed to be on_ , not your sorry excuse to follow us around London,” she added, rolling her eyes. “And that Lambo you rented was the most ostentatious thing on four wheels I’ve ever seen.”

Tony gave her a mock hurt look over his shoulder. “The _Huracan_?! That’s the _least_ ostentatious thing Lambo _does_ , sweetheart. That’s the whole point of a Lambo.”

Darcy nodded, one brow raised. “No, I get that. I’m good with it. But it was _purple_.”

Tony, looking not at all ashamed, shrugged. “I couldn’t resist.”

 

 A half hour later, they’d landed and piled out onto still-bright green grass, and Darcy smiled as she turned to find the lake sparkling in the distance.

There were a few rolling hills that gave way to a valley leading to the lake, and she could see the land was pocked with buildings, all facing the glittering water, just where the sunset would dance later. The dock was piled high with swimming boards, a floating dock was some distance out on the water, and a large pontoon boat was moored at the side, its metal floats clanging softly as a breeze buoyed it against the pier.

“I stayed at a summer camp just like this once,” Darcy said as she looked around.

“Yeah?” Steve asked. “How was it?”

She shrugged. “Couldn’t really tell you, actually. It was just after mom left, so I was so horribly homesick I couldn’t sleep. Cried all night, begged the counselors to let me go home. Stayed a few hours in the nurse’s station until dad could send a driver.”

“ _Driver_?!” Steve said, staring at her. “I mean, I knew your dad was loaded, but…”

Bucky cocked a brow at him. “ _That’s_ what you took from that?” He rolled his eyes. “Nate give you an earful later?”

She nodded, smirking. “You have no idea.” Then she amended. “Or, maybe you do. Old hat, by then, so it hardly matters now.”

The Head Counselor quickly appeared, all smiles, and introduced herself as Shelly, keeping the fan-girl freak out to a minimum as she made only mild mooneyes at Steve. Darcy was immediately reminded of a favorite Barbie she’d had as a kid, and her high, high ponytail, tiny short-shorts and kerchief scarf did not help matters. A surreptitious glance at Bucky confirmed for her, with a smirk, that he didn’t give her more than a single initial glance, his expression passive, if a little wry.

Then that glance cut over to her and he smirked, rolling his eyes. They shared a moment of inside humor at her overeager appearance and he slid his arm around her waist and gave her a little squeeze.

She showed them the giant, cavernous mess hall first, chattering excitedly in what Darcy had always referred to as a Valley Girl voice, and Tony kept hiding his laughter in gentle coughing attacks that had Pepper muttering about allergy medication.

She noticed Steve _noticing_ her though, only to frown and look immediately away and she knew how much he was mentally chiding himself.

Natasha wore a smirk that said she’d noticed it too. Finally she reached up and patted her husband’s shoulder sympathetically, turning to roll her eyes wryly at Darcy.

They went through the longhouse style building and out the other side, emptying at Cabin A, the first of three.

“As you can see, we have three cabins, A, B, and C,” Shelly said as she gestured, popping her hip out in a perky pose that had Steve looking firmly in the other direction.

Bucky huffed a soft laugh, attempting to hide it in her hair as he bowed his head over her neck.

The connection between their minds flared to life at the back of Darcy’s mind, and she got a strong impression of playful lust from him, flirtation that seemed to stem from Steve’s predicament.

“Each cabin houses twelve campers, and we have three counselors in each, making it four kids per adult supervisor.” Each cabin was set up into three rooms: a large bunk house for the adults, a cavernous section with twelve beds all in two neat rows, and a long washroom in the back.

Shelly led them out again.

Darcy, smiling softly, leaned into him. “You’re checking her out too, huh?” she teased.

Bucky gave another little huff and smirked down at her, his voice low in the sunlight. “Would it sound weird if I said she was really highlighting how much I want you right now?”

She couldn’t hide her grin anymore. “ _Down_ , boy. I’m all yours. You don’t need to mark your territory.”

He gave her a playful little snarl and nuzzled her throat and she was glad everyone’s backs were turned as they listened to Shelly chirping on about the campground.

“You super soldiers are like Alpha Males, huh?” she laughed, shoving lightly at his iron chest.

He backed off, chuckling, and they followed the group at a slow amble.

But she saw his blown pupils, dilated and dark with want and wondered if that was the whole story. Their sex life was healthy—or, at least that was what most people would say if you told them you had an average of two orgasms a night—and he usually was much more subtle, especially in public.

But his arm slid down and he twined their fingers gently together, and the sharp edges of him softened.

“All the cabins are identical so there’s no arguing between the kids about anything, even the view!” Shelly peeped.

Natasha twined her hand around Steve’s as they walked.

“Here at Camp Sleepaway, we firmly believe that children should be allowed to be children for as long as possible. Most of the kids we host haven’t had the greatest upbringing, so we aim to keep things fun, light, and without responsibility! We go on daily nature hikes, boat rides, host swimming classes, sports leagues, craft afternoons—and our canoe trips are a camp favorite every year!”

How ironic, she thought, that the superheroes were here. The kids would go nuts. But they were too young to consider the idea that those same cool superheroes had ended up where they’d ended up largely because of little or no childhood as well.

Bucky, carrying his family, as well as Steve and Sarah.

Darcy and her parents.

Natasha and Clint living on the streets.

Tony and his father.

On some level, it really was all about a misplaced sense of self-righteousness.

But Shelly was _moving right along_ , like a cute little Muppet. She showed them the tennis courts, field where they played touch football and soccer, and the volleyball sandpit, before hurrying through the craft room and, last but not least, the clinic.

Darcy shuddered as she shoved through the door, trying and failing to hold her breath to avoid the awful antiseptic smell that always gave away anything of a medical nature.

Shelly got them all set up for the Trick-or-Treating in an ultra efficient and all-together too chipper manner and Tony continued to laugh as she ran around with bowls of candy, directing the teens on table placement. He and Pepper were outside of Cabin A with a little folding card table and the Snickers. Darcy and Bucky were settled at B with the Twix. That left Steve and Natasha at C with the Twizzlers. The other counselors were at other, hidden locations around the camp in order to make it a fun scavenger hunt for the best, full sized candy bars.

Tony put on his suit, Steve his subdued Navy style uniform, and Natasha even wore her cat suit. Darcy was glad she had no way to stand out and snapped mildly at Tony when he teased that Bucky had forgotten his eye black.

Then the kids came—a _flood_ of kids, and in all manner of costumes.

Blow-up T-Rex.

Mary Poppins.

There were six Harry Potters, one Voldemort and at least three Hermione Grangers.

There was a lion, there were dozens of tiny princesses, a few Iron Man’s, a handful of Captain America’s, and Natasha and Pepper were both totally shocked at a sexy Black Widow that slunk very convincingly around, looking about three times as suggestive as Natasha’s—totally ‘tactical’—cat suit.

The Doctor came around in his long coat, moaning that he’d forgotten where he’d parked the TARDIS. Then Ariel came through, looking for her shell necklace that had trapped her voice, all the while not uttering a word.

The kids were really getting into it, much more than kids Darcy’s age ever had.

One little one—Cinderella at about five years—giggled uproariously when Bucky winked at her and it took almost ten minutes for her older sister to finally pull her away.

“You and that charm of yours, you don’t even turn it on and off, do you?” Darcy chuckled, shaking her head as the little one toddled off.

He gave her a sly look. “Oh, when I turn it on, you’ll _know_.”

She snorted and gave him a shove. But watching the siblings totter off clawed loose the old doubt again, tugging at the slack thread she usually was so good at keeping tucked securely away.

And the feeling rose in her, unbidden, no matter how sunny the afternoon was or how strongly she gave it a mental shove. He must’ve sensed it—of course he did, he had to. After their foray into the dreamscape she’d rescued him from the previous spring they shared a bit of consciousness.

Stephen Strange called it a neural link. Totally harmless, he said, as he continued to study it in his spare time, nothing more than a bridge formed by Darcy’s empathic abilities.

It was strange, and they were still getting used to it. And it waxed and waned, though it seemed as though it had little to do with how near or far they were from each other. It was also strangely comforting, to be able to reach back and feel someone else there, someone you were as close to as they were with each other.

A tiny little boy with duck fluff hair and a pair of thick glasses came and went, thanking Darcy shyly as he put his candy bar into his bag, his bow tie crooked, and Bucky finally spoke into the moment of calm. “You gonna tell me what’s destroyed your mood anytime soon or you gonna make me pry it outta ya?”

She jerked to look at him, too lost in her own head.

He gave her that old knowing look of his, one eyebrow raised. “Usually I’d let you come to me, but you were looking forward to this and now you’re wearing that distracted look you wear when you’re preoccupied.”

She sighed and sat back in her folding metal chair. “Was I that loud in your head?”

He shrugged. “Even if I couldn’t feel a certain amount of what you’re feeling, I’d still know by the look on your face. It started with the laughing toddler, but the little boy with the glasses brought on another flare-up.” He met her gaze with his gentle eyes and didn’t let go. “What is it?”

She sighed again and looked around.

Tony was gesticulating wildly to one of the Iron Man kids while Pepper nodded.

Steve was tickling a tiny Piglet from Winnie the Pooh.

Shelly sprinted across the lawn with a crying toddler, shouting for a band-aid for a skinned knee.

His hand landed warmly on her thigh. “You gonna make me say it again?” he offered.

She frowned up at him. “What?”

He made a subtle little shrug. “I might enjoy little things like this, but I have absolutely no interest in taking any of these small creatures home with me, Darce.”

She flinched.

His tone deepened sternly. “None. _Zero_.”

She started pulling at a loose thread in her Bad Company tee shirt. “They say it’s different when they’re your own.”

He sighed and straightened in the chair so he could squeeze her leg. “I don’t think…this is about the fact that you can’t give me something you _think_ I want. I think…this is more about having the choice taken away from you, no matter your answer.” And there it was— _The Look_. The raised eyebrows, the no bullshit set to his mouth.

She wanted to slap him for reading her so succinctly. “How the _fuck_ do you do that?” she huffed. “I mean, _seriously_! Even before this weird neural link thing you still managed to read me like a fucking book. How the hell do you do it?!”

A small, small smile and another shrug. “I dunno. Just a feeling.”

She huffed again and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think _you’re_ the real Empath here, not me.”

He gave a gentle laugh, his voice low as he spoke. “You got stuck with a rare breed of guy who wanted to memorize every inch of you. I know ever flick of your eyebrow, I know every nibble of your lip, I know every tilt to your mouth. It all speaks to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, and way to take all the wind outta my sails. Stop being romantic!”

He laughed freely now.

But she deflated, admitting defeat as the kids ran to and fro. “I just…I just, I dunno. It’s weird, someone just  telling you that you’re…you’re not going to…that you can’t…that you’re, like…less of a woman now.” She started kneading her hands in her lap. “Or whatever. All because someone stuck you with a needle.”

He cocked his head and studied her with a gentle frown.

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I actually _wanted_ to…I haven’t got a maternal bone in my body, I mean, there was absolutely _no_ ticking clock, you know? It’s just…it’s still weird, not making the _choice_ , and…and I guess I figure that…someday, when things aren’t so crazy, if that ever even happens. And when things are quiet, you’re…you’ll be bored or something and…and you’ll resent me because…because you’re from a different time, when that wasn’t really a question, and…and you’re supposed to… _want_ to…be a…” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “Like, a _dozen_ , and I can’t…”

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, tucked in amidst Bucky’s dull shock, was the knowledge that she was blathering incoherently.

He didn’t speak; he just sat there, in the bright sunlight, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair, his hand on her thigh, and looked at her with that gentle expression.

God, he was a walking juxtaposition.

She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, and ended up talking to her lap again, shoulders slumped. “And I _know_ what you said, that you don’t want any of that, and it’s not that I don’t _believe_ you, because I _do_. I mean, I’m sort of in your head, it’s hard to lie in that scenario. But…I dunno. People change their minds, and if you would’ve I would’ve done it for you, if it was what you wanted, and I probably would’ve ended up being okay with it, and it’s just _weird_ , because you’re _totally_ the sort of guy to…and I just…feel sort of like…”

His voice was soft. “Someone stole something from you.”

Finally, with that, she looked up at him. “And I didn’t even _want_ it,” she said, softly. “Does that…make sense?”

“It was still an inherent part of you. And now you feel like someone’s absconded with a small piece of you.” His hand tightened.

She chewed on her lip. “I don’t sound crazy?”

With a sad look, he shook his head, before pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her. “No. You don’t sound crazy.”

She pressed her face against his soft tee shirt. “I didn’t even _want_ it…”

“I know, sweetie,” he murmured. “I know. But you’re going to listen to me right now, because I’m only going to say this _once_.” He set her back on her chair and fixed her with a stern look.

She shrank a little at the intensity of his gaze. “What?”

“ _Don’t_. For a _second_. Think that you are any less of a woman over something as silly as that. And if you don’t believe me now I’ll make sure I find a way to show you later. _You got me_?”

Swallowing, she nodded, just in time for a small Genie to run up looking for the chocolate.

It was a long afternoon, and things settled down into a rhythm of lots of kids, then no kids, until they were breathless with laughter, half sunburned, and clean out of candy.

They helped dismantle the tables and clean up despite Shelly’s protests and Darcy was back to feeling just like her old self with her old attitude just in time for the evening.

The counselor offered to have the mess hall start them dinner, but Tony—with a horrified look at the very _suggestion_ of cafeteria food—insisted on ordering two dozen pizzas, half of which were promptly swiped by the late teen counselors, who appeared seemingly out of nowhere before chattering their way off again, heading toward the woods.

The campfire crackled in the dim light of the warm, blushing sunset.

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. “They’ve probably got a six pack of Bud Light hidden in a hollowed out log back there.”

Darcy snorted. “Or a bottle of tequila.”

Natasha joined in, smiling as she reached for another slice of pepperoni. “They’d better be careful or the whole night will be a painful blur.”

“Aren’t they underage?” Steve pointed out, watching them with a frown that had an undeniably paternal ring to it.

Bucky laughed and thumped him on the back. “Oh, Rogers. You have _so_ much to learn.”

Steve gave him a mildly scolding look, old, hazy memories dimming his eyes for a split second. “You mean like that one time when you _taught_ me about your pop’s whiskey collection?”

Bucky grinned and waggled his eyebrows playfully, but pointed with his pizza crust. “ _Exactly_.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Loosen up, Rogers. Its summer camp,” Tony snarked, waving a careless hand at the Captain. “They’ll be fine. They’ll get mildly buzzed, a couple of ‘em will lose their virginity, they’ll be slightly ashamed for a few years and then look back on this as a fond memory.”

Darcy laughed, looking around at her found family. “Sounds disturbingly familiar, eh, Boss Man?”

Pepper side-eyed him.

Tony gave her a mock stern look. “No comment, Short Stack.”

 

 

They whiled away a few hours sitting around the campfire like it was just something they occasionally did, camping together in the wilderness. Shelly pulled up a few extra logs and they broke into their respective pairs and toasted marshmallows for s’mores and everything, like a scene from a movie. Bucky tended the fire expertly and Darcy almost asked him how he was so careful with it before she realized he and his men had likely done things like this behind enemy lines a few decades before.

Tony pulled out a case of beer, the good stuff, passed around the limes, and they talked, joking and shooting the breeze long into the darkness, until things took the inevitable turn.

“… _She leaned around the back of the cabin_ ,” Tony said, his voice low. “ _’Hello?’ she said. ‘Is someone there?’”_

Darcy lifted her head from Bucky’s shoulder. “Everyone knows that’s Horror Movie Rule Number One, Boss Man. You never ask out loud if the bad guy is right around the next corner. It gives away your position.”

Steve frowned. “I thought it was ‘Don’t Split Up’?”

Natasha shook her head, pulling a face. “Nah. I gotta go with Darce on this one. Speaking out loud gives away any potential advantage you might have—not to mention a good place to hide from the axe murderer.” She plucked another marshmallow from the bag Steve was still absentmindedly holding and popped it in her mouth.

“Wait,” Pepper interjected. “There’s a list? A Horror Movie Rules… _list_?”

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky spoke up, his hand trailing up Darcy’s back, then back down again. “Don’t ask if someone’s there, don’t split up—”

“Don’t make out in stupid spots,” Darcy added.

He nodded, snapping his fingers. “Right, yeah, don’t make out in stupid spots.”

“Don’t forget ‘Don’t Get Drunk’,” Natasha added.

They all nodded. “Right. Yeah. Another good one,” Darcy said.

Tony scowled and started gesturing wildly with his hands, clearly annoyed. “Alright, alright. You’ve all made your point. _Anyway, if I can get back to my scary story_ …”

“It wasn’t that scary,” Bucky interjected with an impish look.

Tony gave him his best glare, his jaw locking with a muscular bulge in his cheek.

“Before you have an aneurism, Stark,” Darcy teased.

Tony took a second to put his creepy face back on again, all theatricality. “The creature lunged around the side of the cabin, straight toward her, its _huge claws_ and _monstrous jaws slashing_ at her face in the darkness, the only dim light from a new moon above.”

Now Bucky freely interrupted. “It wouldn’t even be dim if there was a new moon—it’d be pretty much pitch dark. That’s why they call it a _New Moon_.”

Tony’s expression flattened in the light from the fire, casting funny shadows on his face as he just stared irritably at his would-be son-in-law.

Darcy snorted. “You’re gonna stroke him out, babe.”

“ _The creature_ —” Tony spoke over them, _loudly_ —“lunged at the girl as she darted back, and roared, slashing at her with its claws and caught her across the chest, shredding her skin and ripping open her torso.”

“Ew, _Tony_!” Pepper whined, frowning at him. “ _Really_?”

“Cool,” Natasha said. “Then what? Did she bleed out all over the grass?”

Steve gave her his own admonishing look.

Bucky and Darcy sat laughing at the scene.

But Tony was eating it up. “In fact, she did. She lay in the grass, bleeding and gasping as she died, the oxygen bubbling in her exposed throat, until she finally died there. The creature waited until she stopped twitching to feed. When her friends finally realized she’d gone missing, it wasn’t until two days later that they found her bones, still draped with her short shorts and bikini top.”

They all blinked at each other.

“The end.”

Pepper just let out a long sigh.

“That’s seriously how it ends?” Natasha complained, throwing a marshmallow at the inventor.

“What?” he said, trying to catch it, missing, and knocking it out of his space with a swat.

“You had to make sure we knew she was running around in her bikini, though, didn’t you, Boss Man?” Darcy added, rolling her eyes. She leaned across Bucky toward Natasha and gestured. “Gimme one of those things.”

“That’s called ‘being a misogynist’, Tony,” Bucky teased, leaning aside so Darcy could fire off a shot.

They all laughed and joked for a while more, teasing Tony that his campfire story was lame, to say the least, before they all split up for their cabins.

“You just mark my words, Short Stack—that story was based on true events!” he called across the grass that separated A and B.

She rolled her eyes. “Sit on it, Boss Man!”

“’Sit on it’?” he called, scoffing. “What is this, Nineteen Sixty-Six?”

“C’mon, Tony,” Pepper finally said, tugging him into the cabin.

The screen door slammed.

Darcy stood in the open doorway for a few moments, looking up at the full moon as it hung, pregnant and full up in the sky, bright white, bright enough to burn her eyes if she looked at it too long.

It was quiet. Totally opposite from the constant drone of Manhattan, a buzzing hive, the woods were silent, but for the occasional hoot of an owl or chirrup of a katydid. There was something pure about it, unmarred by humanity.

She took a deep breath, savoring the soft breeze through the leaves, and the gentle lap of the lake against the shore and pier, the continued hushed clanging of the moored pontoon boat.

A strong pair of arms slid around her waist and Bucky pressed his body against her back, tugging her weight gently against his warmth as he nuzzled her neck. “What’re ya going over here?” he murmured, running his palms along her belly, sending a ripple through her.

“Just looking at the moon,” she murmured back, her voice sounding too loud and vulgar in the dark silence. “It’s so peaceful out here. Healing.”

His arms tightened. “Welcome change from Manhattan, hm?” he whispered, pressing his mouth to her throat.

“Mm.” She tilted her head to allow him access to her shoulder and neck, and sighed. “That feels nice.”

“Mm.”

She let her eyes slide shut again as he closed his mouth and started gently pulling on her pulse point, soothing it with his tongue.

The breeze lifted her hair off her neck.

The water lapped rhythmically against the shore.

She opened her eyes again, hearing Tony’s joke earlier about fond memories and mischievous counselors.

A thought took shape.

And all at once she broke from the circle of his arms and darted down the shallow hill toward the sparkling water, laughing, suddenly buoyed by a lightness of being as the breeze parted for her rapid descent.

She heard a playful little growl behind her and turned on the heat, footsteps gaining on her. “Where do you think _you’re_ going?”

But her heart was in her throat, and in a good way as she evaded him all the way to the lake, and the stands of trees along the shore. More laughter bubbled up out of her throat and was stolen by the wind, whipping around her face, raking her hair back with greedy fingers.

Finally he caught her up against a huge Birch, caging her in with his strong arms. “Thought you could get away, huh?” His eyes were bright with laughter and flirtation and want in the moonlight.

She laughed breathlessly, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Take your clothes off.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “That was my plan. You know, back there.” He gestured, smirking, back toward the cabin.

Still laughing, she continued to tug. “I know. C’mon. Take your clothes off.”

He tugged right back, on her arm. “You got it, babe. Whatever you want. C’mon.”

She resisted. “No, I mean right here.”

The smirk bloomed into a full smile. “ _Right here_? Up against a tree. Never done that. Might hurt your back. Don’t really need to strip for that—”

“I’m not talking about that,” she continued, still breathless. She tugged off her own tee shirt, then slipped out of her shorts, kicking off her slip on shoes. “Right here.” She produced a ponytail from her wrist and started securing her long, dark hair in a high tail, glancing around at the dark buildings. “I mean right here.”

He gave her a hard look, not speaking as he glanced back, then forth, then stopped on the water. “It’ll be cold,” was all he said, not exactly an argument.

She grinned. “Maybe. Don’t you wanna find out?”

He gave her a long look standing there, his eyes traveling up and down, her bra, her matching panties, a small smirk curling one corner of his mouth as though he dared her to do it.

So she did, stripping off her underwear, not sure where the brazenness was coming from, and not giving herself too much time to wonder as she slid into the water all at once.

And it wasn’t. It was still warm from the summer, the ambient water temperature a nicely tolerable level of cool. Easily the craziest thing she’d ever done, she paddled out into the deeper water, totally naked and a little surprised at herself. “You coming, Soldier Boy? Don’t tell me you didn’t do this during the War?” she teased, facing the other way as she started treading water.

“Sure, but the idea was to actually _bathe_ , not just break Public Indecency laws,” he said from the shore. “You can swim, right? I’m not gonna have to rescue you anytime soon?”

She giggled. “Scared you’ll be cold, Winter Soldier?”

And he was suddenly there, behind her, his arms warm as he looped her into his space. “Why don’t you tell me?”

She laughed, turning around to find him equally without clothes in the refreshing water.

He stole a kiss, that playful lust from earlier back in their neural link as they proceeded to make out in a stupid spot, treading water and tangling together.

The very tips of his hair were already wet when she slid her fingers into the soft strands, wrapping her arms around his neck and sighing as he paid her throat further attention. “I’ve never had sex in a lake before,” she murmured against his mouth.

He smiled and it became a little more teeth and tongue. “First time for everything.”

It was odd, not having any leverage, but he created a little with his arms supporting her as she wrapped her legs tightly around him and they slid easily together. And it changed the angle, so that every single brush was just right there, every. Single. Time.

His movements were gentler in the water, more deliberate and searching as they continued to kiss, quietly, stroking each other. His hands tightened around her waist and thigh and she straightened her back to give him something to clutch at.

He nibbled her shoulder then journeyed back up her throat, to her jaw, up and over, and bit down on her earlobe, sending a strange little thrill through her. She hadn’t been aware she had a zone there, and he chuckled softly against her ear.

It took much longer, given the angle, but that was okay with them, the gentle lapping of the water around them a calming note in the night.

But it built all the same, no matter how long she wanted it to last, and eventually they both were breathless.

Her core tightened, tightened again, until it was almost painful, and she clutched at his shoulders, trying to move against him when she didn’t have any way to do so, arching her body and wishing she hadn’t had this crazy idea and that they’d just stayed up against that birch.

He gave a subtle jerk.

She muffled her cry of satisfaction against his shoulder, letting her eyes slide shut as he quickly followed after her, the starburst almost as bright as the moonlight in his eyes.

His hands tightened once, twice, around her thighs, then he went slack, just as breathless, the color high in his cheeks and his eyes clear, bursting blue even in the dark.

They stayed there, wrapped up, for what felt like a long time, finally parting so they could continue to tread water as they floated.

They didn’t make it far, though, and he had the stronger legs, so she curled around him again and they stayed for a while, listening to the water and the night sounds, foreheads pressed together, nuzzled.

“I love you,” she murmured.

He ran his hands up her back, then back down again, and pressed his mouth to her forehead in silence, an answer in itself.

The breeze was soft in the night trees for a long time as they drifted there, tangled up in the water.

But suddenly her ears pricked an anomaly in the night.

She jerked around in his arms. “What was that?”

He sighed, long and deep. “What was what?” he asked, his voice low.

She stared hard at the trees with narrowed eyes, listening intently, sure that she’d heard a rustle that had nothing to do with the midnight wind. “I thought I heard something…”

A chill ran up her spine and she readjusted her arms around his neck.

His warm palm flattened in the small of her back in the water.

Again.

She twisted around. “ _That_. What was that?”

All she could see was the deep dark spaces between the thick trees, but her senses sharpened to a hollow point and adrenaline shot through her, making her heart kick.

He frowned and looking around her slightly. “What was what, Darce?” he asked again, his voice seeming loud, too loud, in the dark and suddenly she felt all-too exposed, and not just because they were skinny dipping. Heat flamed her cheeks as she considered that Tony might be lurking, looking to play a silly prank, like they were really were at sleepaway camp and he was going to steal their clothes.

She chewed on her lip for a moment. “I thought I heard—”

She was resolutely cut off as another sound issued from the dark.

Growling. The low and threatening kind.

Definitely not Tony.

She stiffened. “ _That_.”

His grip around her tightened. “I didn’t hear anything.”

She whipped back around to stare at him incredulously. “You didn’t  _hear_  anything?” she snapped, nervous, her heart starting a sprint in her chest. “ _You_  didn’t hear that?  _You_? Of all people?!”

He shrugged and the water lapped around them. “Hear  _what_ , babe?”

She narrowed her eyes again. “You better not be fucking around with me, Jamie.”

He gave her a soft look that wasn’t in any way a match for the moment. “Have I ever done that to you before?”

She shivered and glanced again through the trees. “It was…growling. It was  _growling_.”

An eyebrow chinked up as he studied her. “ _Growling_? Out  _here_?”

She broke free of his embrace and he let go of all but her wrist. “ _There_. There it was again.”

It sounded… _big_. She swallowed thickly, her throat tight.

“Darcy…” Bucky started, sounding apprehensive.

“ _Tony_!” she snapped, not too loudly, but loud enough to carry to shore. “This isn’t funny, Boss Man. If you’re out to stir up shit, I will  _kick your ass_ , father figure or not! I can stand up to you now!”

Just the wind.

Bucky’s other hand settled at her back again. “Darcy…there’s nothing there. It’s the middle of the night. There’s probably, like, a couple branches scratching together up in the trees or someth—”

He stopped as it issued forth again, louder this time, a snarling edge to the sound.

Darcy spun around, searching for the source, but there was nothing but the direction of the beach—where their clothes were tossed across the log bench.

Their eyes met in silence.

“What the fuck is that?” she whispered, starting to shiver.

His hands folded around her upper arms and he pulled her back into him, sounding slightly more apprehensive this time. “I’m sure it was just—”

More snarling now, than growl, it amplified as a pair of yellow eyes revealed themselves between two trees just there, along the shoreline.

“Jamie…” she murmured, terror lancing through her, sharp and hot, her heart stuttering.

“…Yeah?” he murmured back, his hands tightening around her, the metal of his left palm rapidly cooling in the nighttime water.

“You see that, right?”

He tried twice to clear his throat, and finally gave up, his voice thick. “Yeah.”

“Wolf?” she suggested, the water around her rippling now, she was shaking so hard.

“Or a cougar.”

“Mm.”

“Neither of which are all that common in New York State,” he muttered.

She reached back to grip at his human shoulder and he wrapped his metal arm around her. “What—what do we do?”

Just then, as if sensing their conversation, the eyes drew back, and with an audible huff of air, there was a sound of retreating paws— _large_  paws—on packed earth.

And the creature was gone into the trees.

For a moment, they were still.

Then—

“Go.”

Darcy didn’t need telling twice, and she lunged ahead in the water, throwing herself toward the shore, not even caring that she was totally naked.

Bucky, of course, was larger and faster and he snatched up her arm and tugged her along with him, half dragging, half carrying her until they tripped gracelessly onto the sand. “Quick as you can,” he muttered, tossing her clothes at her.

Not bothering with her bra or underwear, she dragged her tee shirt over her head and struggled with her jeans, water still coursing down her body.

She’d barely buttoned when another— _closer_ —snarl issued from the trees across the beach, and she straightened, staring up in to her husband’s pale face.

She whipped around and saw a shape, a large, inconceivable shape in the not-quite darkness that made her jump. “What the fu—”

She was cut off as Bucky—snatching at her wrist again with his lightning grip—started dragging her along with him. “ _Go_!” he snapped.

The sound of those paws again was loud in her ears as whatever-it-was officially gave chase, and she glanced back over her shoulder as they both sprinted up the hill.

Bucky tugged harder on her before she got a look at anything other than black-gray fur, and they catapulted toward their cabin. “Don’t look back!” he snapped.

She thought she might be able to feel the earth move—wasn’t that a song?—beneath them up the even-steeper-than-she-remembered hill, but couldn’t be sure.

Was that hot breath on the back of her wet neck?

Didn’t matter.

She lost her footing getting ahead of herself at the crest, but Bucky hooked his arm around her and practically lifted her with him to the concrete entranceway at the cabin door.

They shot through the opening, Bucky shoving her gallantly ahead of him—and he slammed the door not a second too soon.

There was a deafening thump as something very large ran smack into the door, and the wood creaked as Bucky pressed himself back against it, breathing hard, his face white as a sheet.

Darcy rubbed her chest, gasping for air as she stood watching in horror, her eyes like saucers.

A vicious snarl came through the door, followed by a harsh scraping as massive claws did battle with the wood, trying to find a way in.

Another huge bang, and Bucky redoubled his efforts on the door panel, his eyes shut and his muscles clenched tight with super soldier effort.

Then nothing.

The door went still.

Once again, all Darcy could hear out the windows was the night breeze.

They stood for a long moment just staring at each other, Bucky refusing to move from the door.

With a huge effort, he exhaled a long, harsh breath, and gave a thick swallow.

“Holy fucking  _bananas_ , what the  _fuckity_ -fuck was that?!” she finally gasped, hand still clutched to her heart.

His eyes were glued to her. “I dunno. Are you alright?”

Swallowing as she attempted to steady her breathing, she nodded.

He hesitantly left the door to its own devices and glanced warily at it as he crossed to her to pull her into his arms, kicking aside the rest of their clothes they’d dumped on the floor. “Thank God.”

She let him hold her, pressing her face to his warm chest, his tee shirt damp beneath her cheek. “You don’t believe in God.”

His voice was low again, in the dim dark of the cabin. “I never said that.”

She pulled back a step to peer up into his face, still milk pale.

“I said I never believed in  _organized religion_. But I certainly believe in fate and if whatever the powers that be wanna be called, if they brought me to you, I’ll call them whatever the fuck they want.”

She let out a nervous laugh.

A low rumble seemed to circle the cabin, and her stomach clenched again as she concentrated on the steady thump of his heartbeat.

“Hey.”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“We might’ve stepped into a horror film, but…I love you.”

Her heart squeezed. “You too.”

And he winked.

Tiptoeing, she approached the front window and ticked the curtains just a little so she could see through a narrow slit.

And what she saw defied all logic.

Half wolf and half man, it was a straight up creature from any number of old school urban legends. “Jamie…” she gasped.

He bent behind her and looked out. “Holy fuck,” he whispered.

It wasn’t quite bipedal, and walked half upright, and its large limbs were rippled with raw muscle. Its gunmetal fur was uneven and patchy; its waist was narrow and built for speed.

It prowled back and forth, its muzzle white with foam and its yellow eyes narrowed as it raised its snout and scented the air. Its long, gray tail swished and its wide, pointed ears twitched as it siphoned all the forest sounds of the night, searching out any sign of its prey.

She reached back and gripped blindly at his tee shirt, scrunching the thin, soft fabric right in her fist. “Unless they’re out in the wilderness filming another Underworld movie, I don’t know what that is, Jamie…I don’t have a word for it other than—”

“Werewolf,” her husband finished for her.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she straightened and turned around, putting her back to the terror. “There’s no such thing, Jamie. Right? Tell me there’s no such thing. Tell me again how a werewolf is nothing more than an Old World myth, a silly story about a man cursed to turn into a wolf creature under the full moon. Tell me again that that _can’t be a werewolf_ , because those _DON’T EXIST_.”

“Sshhh,” he shushed her, still watching through the slit in the curtain. “I…”

“Jamie,” she repeated. “ _Seriously_.”

He continued watching, his eyes glued as the creature prowled around the front of their cabin. “I…I…” He swallowed.

“There’s no such things as werewolves,” she muttered, like a mantra. “There’s no such things as werewolves. There’s no such things as— _AAHHH_!”

There was another harsh bang and the door shook again under an onslaught. Bucky darted over and braced himself against it, biceps strung tight. “Sshh. I’m guessing it heard you and saw us in the window,” he breathed.

She took a deep, deep breath. “So, we’re trapped.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “At least until morning and the spell wears off,” he said, flippantly. “You know, like spells usually do.”

She choked out a laugh in her shock. “We can…we can hang out until morning, right? I mean…” She started hemming and hawing. “We can find inventive ways to keep ourselves entertained, right?”

He rolled his eyes, but was smirking as the onslaught, again, died out.

For a long moment, they both breathed in the silence.

“I think it’s gone again. Don’t look out the window.”

The shock was wearing off, though. She started pacing. “I’m dreaming, right? This is a dream? I’m really in our bed, back at the Tower, and I had a little too much wine with dinner, and we were watching the _Thriller_ music video because you wanted to see the Zombie Dance Sequence, and now I’m having a really, really vivid nightmare.” She looked up at him. “Right?”

Looking grim, he shook his head. “No, babe. We’re at the State Park.”

She tugged her fingers through her hair, her heart thrumming in her chest. “But this _can’t_ be reality, Jamie, because that’s a fucking _werewolf_ _thing_ outside, and werewolves aren’t real, _Jamie_. They _don’t exist_ , Jamie. _This can’t be real, Jamie_!”

He took a deep breath, hands on hips. “Just try and keep it together, Darce. I—”

He was interrupted by a raw-throated scream as it rang out in the night, clear and bloody.

They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“Nat?” Darcy suggested, not caring as she ran to the window and pulled the curtain foolishly aside so she could look out. Nothing.

“No,” Jamie corrected, coming up behind her. “That was Pepper.”

Not caring about what might be lurking, she yanked the door open and ran out into the growling night, the outer screen door slapping behind her as it shut.

To her surprise, he didn’t protest, instead catching her up, grabbing up her hand, and pulling her ahead as they sprinted for Cabin A, the door hanging off one hinge.

This time, nothing gave chase.

They careened through the doorway and into the cabin proper—

Where they found Tony gripping his bleeding arm.

 

 

“What. The fuck. IS _HAPPENING_?!” Darcy snapped, staring at him in shock.

The inventor was gasping as he clutching a bleeding gash in his arm where it looked like his skin had been shredded. His face was pale as he looked up at them, his eyes dull. “Pep…” he murmured.

Bucky’s voice was raw and ragged. “Stark, I swear to God, if you’re fucking around with us, I will _punch_ you in your _Goddamn_ face. I’m not fucking joking. This is _not funny_.”

But Tony only gestured vaguely with his bloody hand. “It came in…and Pep ran out, and…I tried to stop it, but…” He gestured vaguely toward his suit, folded up again into its portable smart case, sitting in the corner. “I couldn’t get to…”

Darcy checked his arm and found a shallow gash there, like claws had taken a swipe at him, and not gotten much. “It’s just a flesh wound,” she said. “There are bandages in a kit, I saw it in our cabin.” She went to the back section of the cabin and pulled a plastic box off the wall, with a red ‘X’ on the front. Then she went back out and began wrapping his arm in gauze while Bucky kept a lookout at the destroyed door. “ _Seriously_ , Boss Man—”

“We’ve gotta find Pep. She went running off…” he said, cutting her off as she secured the bandage.

Bucky was scowling out the front window. “Which direction did she take off in?”

Tony gestured with a shaking hand toward the back of the cabin. “The back. She ran out the back when I told her to go.” He seemed genuinely shaken.

They didn’t wait for him to join them, Bucky shuffling Darcy behind him as they moved for the back of the structure.

He stopped, though, after having taken not half a dozen steps forward, paused by a scuffling sound at the back door.

“This is fucking insane,” Darcy muttered, clutching at Bucky’s human shoulder and peeking around him. “I’m just gonna say it. It’s like we stepped onto the set of a poorly funded horror movie by a half dozen college students for their audited course in film editing.”

“Sshhh…” Bucky soothed her, but jumped back, pushing her when the door shook on its hinges—

And finally gave.

Revealing Steve standing in the doorway, scowling, Natasha behind him.

Bucky sighed.

Darcy set her forehead against his shoulder and let out a long breath.

“You remember that movie we went to on Halloween in ’35? _Werewolf in London_?” he asked Bucky.

“Yeeeaaah.”

“Well, I didn’t like that movie—and I _don’t like this_.”

He skirted Steve and Natasha to glance out the door. “Well, as long as you keep Natasha up all night this time, and not me, I don’t think I care.”

Steve huffed.

“Not the point right now, guys,” Natasha said, folding her arms over her chest. “We’ve got a problem.”

“Yeah,” Darcy agreed, trying to steer Steve and Tony in the right direction. “We are not college co-eds and that thing is not a poorly designed prop by the Arts Department. What are we gonna do?”

Another scream echoed in the night, rapidly followed by an honest-to-God howl.

“Pep!” Tony cried, shoving between them all and throwing himself out the door.

They all gave chase, careening out after him into the night.

But there was nothing.

“Where _is_ she?!” Tony snapped, spinning around, his eyes wild and searching, pupils tiny pinpricks in the dark nighttime landscape, so different from the bright, sunny Trick-or-Treat afternoon. “What direction did that come from?!”

Steve led the charge into the dense trees. “East.”

“ _North_ east,” Bucky added, pulling up even with his friend as he swiped his hair out of his face.  
                “Is your hair wet?” Steve asked, frowning at his friend in confusion.

But Bucky was totally casual about it as he set off through the dense underbrush. “We went for a swim.”

Steve blushed. “A _swim_? But, you didn’t pack…”

Bucky held a branch aside so Darcy and Natasha could duck under. “Nope.”

Steve glanced between them and the blush deepened as he put two and two together.

Natasha smirked that smirk of hers as she kept one eye on Tony, trailing dazedly behind them, his injured arm held gingerly in front of his body. “I’d say ‘Get it, girl’, but that would be really trite, wouldn’t it?” she said to Darcy.

Darcy grinned. “Yeah, yeah, it would. But the sentiment is there, all the same.”

A beat of silence in the night.

“But you got it. Right?” she muttered, voice turned down low so only her friend could hear.

Darcy chuckled, low in her throat. “ _Oh_ , yeah.”

Bucky didn’t speak, but he made it clear that he’d heard everything as he shuffled his hair out of his face again, and revealed the smirk curling one corner of his mouth.

They trailed along a narrow, overgrown path through the forest, sidestepping undergrowth and tugging branches aside for each other, pointedly not talking about what they were doing.

None of them dared to call out in search of Pepper in fear of calling attention to their little search party, either.

But finally Darcy couldn’t take it anymore.

“So…why’d you guys come running?” she asked, her voice quavering in the dark. “Did you…hear Pepper scream too?”

Steve’s face went dark.

“Yeah,” Natasha murmured. “Then Steve looked out the window and just about fell back on his ass. That thing, it’s…”

“It’s a _werewolf_ ,” Bucky said. “No way around it. Don’t know why, don’t know how, but it’s a fucking werewolf—or something that looks a hell of a lot like one.”

“You seem awfully calm about that,” Steve said as he tripped on a tree root hidden in the shadows and caught himself on the trunk of a giant oak.

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen plenty of things that weren’t supposed to be real in my life, so I’m surprisingly okay with this—Hell, I’m _one of the things_.”

Darcy hugged her arms around herself as she looked around through the dense forest growth around them. “Yeah, well, that makes one of us, then.”

Another loud and insistent howl went up then, high and piercing—

And close.

Bucky spun, his eyes searching and landing first on Darcy. “That was under a half mile out.”

Steve snatched at Natasha’s hand. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say it was coming from—”

“Right behind us,” Darcy said, her voice low as she slid her hand into Bucky’s.

They all turned to look behind them into the deep forest.

“North!” Bucky commanded. “ _Go_! North! _Go_!” He clutched Darcy’s hand tighter and they all broke into runs, or at least as fast as they could manage in the forest.

More howling struck the night, again and again, as though it sensed its prey and was happily on the hunt, and it seemed to surround them, Darcy thought, behind, in front, on all sides, and they were trapped.

Finally, the forest gradually tapered, and they tripped onto a strip of blacktop, looking neat and even, and out of place for the setting.

Snarling met them there.

They looked left, one by one, frozen in place—

To find the huge, hulking shadow of a wolf creature fifty yards down the road, and staring directly at them, its yellow eyes catching the light of the moon and reflecting it, like a cat.

“Holy shit!” Steve cried.

They booked it up the road, sprinting hell bent for leather into the night. “Language, Steve!” Darcy scolded.

Finally, after what felt like ages, a light in the near distance.

“The mess hall!” Tony cried desperately.

Darcy pulled out all the stops and she and Bucky took up the lead as the blacktop opened up into the front parking lot, the welcome center a sight for sore eyes in the clearing.

Natasha went to the front and pulled on the door. “It’s locked!”

They went around the back, but it was locked there, too.

Gasping for air, they kept going, spurred on by the vicious barking that followed them, the scratch of claws on pavement, until they reached the mess hall, and, finding it mercifully unlocked, hurried inside and shut the door.

Bucky and Steve braced it as the animal threw itself at it from the other side.

Breathless, Darcy yanked her elastic from her pony tail and started to finger comb through her hair. “Seriously. This is _insane_ ,” she gasped, separating her dark hair into sections.

“Definitely feels like we walked onto the set of a slasher film,” Natasha agreed, straightening her tee shirt.

Darcy started loosely braiding her hair so it wouldn’t loosen as easily in case they had to run again.

Bucky’s presence in her consciousness flickered somewhere between warm affection and utter terror as he watched her fingers closely, his eyes softening. She made a mental note to remember he liked braids as Steve spoke.

“Tony. _Think_. Which way do you think Pepper would go?”

Tony, propped up and gasping against the nearest table, shook his head. “Don’t know. She wouldn’t go back to our cabin, the doors are fucked up.” He nudged his chin toward Darcy and Bucky. “What about yours? Is it still standing?”

Darcy nodded. “Think so. It put up a fight between Buck and the door, but when we left, it was intact.”

Swallowing, he nodded. “So let’s start there and work our way to C if we need to?”

They moved in unison for the rear door, but when Natasha was about to push through it, two pairs of hands stopped her.

“Wait,” Steve said.

He and Bucky pressed their super soldier hearing to the wood panel and listened. For a few seconds it was utterly still in the mess hall and it was all Darcy could do not to start nibbling on her fingernails.

Finally, concurring, they both nodded. “Clear,” Bucky declared as he pushed the door open just a crack.

Steve peered out. “Yep. Clear. For now.”

“We’ll take it at a run,” Bucky commanded, his voice low in the cavernous hall.

They all spilled out into the night again, heading to B.

But they found it empty—

With the exception of the bloody pool just inside the door, about two inches wide and black in the dark. Darcy slipped on it on her way through the door, screeching out a sound of surprise and was only saved from falling into it by Bucky’s lightning grip.

“Is that…?” she said, her voice quavering.

“Blood,” Natasha said.

Bucky nodded. “There’s a trail.”

Falling in line, they followed it toward the back of the cabin. In the wash room, the first aid kit had been yanked off the wall, but clearly whoever had done so had been viciously interrupted, for it was lying crookedly on the counter, the door open and hanging off one hinge—

And there was more blood smeared on the white plastic casing and the countertop beneath it.

A roll of gauze had been half undone and the end of it trailed on the floor.

Darcy was about to ask how severe the combat soldiers thought a wound like that could be when a shadow fell across the light from the wash bay.

Frowning, she turned.

The back door was off one hinge as well—and framed in it was the creature, huge and hulking, and staring at them with a malicious glint in its hollow eyes.

There was no time to cry out.

All she could do was grab Bucky’s shoulder and yank on her way back toward the front door.

No one else needed the warning anyway.

They tumbled through the second room and around the beds.

Tony tripped and Natasha had to drag him back to his feet.

All the while, they backed slowly in the direction of the front door while the creature stalked slowly after them, like it was all a game. Its muzzle dripped with saliva pink with blood and let out a low snarl, its knobby limbs moving ungainly in the smaller space.

Bucky shoved Darcy behind him.

The wolf lunged, taking a swipe at Tony, but with a shout, he jumped back.

This seemed to be a cue, and they all turned tail and ran out of the cabin and back out onto the lawn, scattering.

Darcy figured the next place an injured Pepper might go would be the clinic and so she peeled off to the right, where she remembered it was from their earlier tour. Blind with panic, she didn’t realize that not everyone else in the group would be thinking along the same lines and so it wasn’t until she’d crashed through the clinic door—Bucky sliding in after her like Tom Cruise in _Risky Business_ —that she realized the rest of their party had gone the other way—toward the tennis courts and soccer field.

The creature, of course, had chosen to follow her and now prowled outside the glass door, watching them with those disturbingly intelligent eyes.

“I don’t think we’re getting outta this alive, Jamie,” she murmured, watching it stalk back and forth as he watched them right back.

“Try and keep it together, Darce,” he said as he started perusing the interior of the tiny building. It was all plastic boxes of medical supplies, shelves piled with manuals and other things, a small sink with a stool and tablet mount, and the bed.

Darcy perched there restlessly, one eye always on the wolf at the door.

It was quiet for a while and she was glad that at least she knew the creature wasn’t attacking her friends. But where was Pepper?!

She glanced at the clock ticking on the wall. After one in the morning.

“You really think I’d spend the past two years lying to you, Darcy?” Bucky finally spoke into the quiet. “You think I’d tell you even a white lie to make you feel better?”

She blinked up at him, totally lost. “What?”

He said down on the bed beside her and took up her hand in his metal one, watching the animal that hunted them. “Our conversation from earlier. You think I seem like the kind of guy that envisions white picket fences and a minivan? Soccer practice and lullabies and family vacations?”

She shrugged, glancing down in her lap. “I dunno. You just…seem like a…nurturer.”

He snorted. “Yeah, of _you_ , not a bunch of kids.”

She sat watching as Bucky stared the creature down through the glass window of the door, his stance all Alpha, tense and taut, head down, eyes sharp, his left hand clenched in a fist. “There you go, all Mama Bear on me,” she said.

This seemed to break his concentration. “Mama _what_?”

She smirked and gestured. “C’mon. We can’t go anywhere right now. We’re pinned, and that’s a best case scenario if you don’t succeed in baiting it, standing there at the door.”

Looking apprehensive, he moved slowly across the room to her, one eye watching the window the whole time. He sat down across from her on the bed and folded his legs up.

She folded a loose strand of hair behind her ear and flushed when she looked up to find him watching her with affectionate eyes.

“Did you just call me ‘Mama Bear’?” he asked.

She smiled and shrugged. “Well, yeah. When something threatens me, you get like a mother bear with her cubs. Or an Alpha Wolf.” She gestured out the door. “You were doing it just then, all tough and defensive, like you’d rip a hole in space and time for me or something.”

He sighed and picked up her hand, outlining the shape of her ring with his thumb. “I would.”

She sighed, her breathing returning to normal for the first time since, she thought, the campfire, and her heart relaxed as he started playing with her fingers, frowning down at them.

“Do you think…we rushed into things?” she asked, then, the thought rising in her out of nowhere, and to her horror, she realized too late she’d spoken them aloud.

He glanced up at her, his expression smoothing over. “Rushed into things?”

She shrugged, nervous under his direct gaze. “Yeah. I dunno, like we took things too fast?”

For a long moment, he studied her with those azure eyes, calm and thoughtful, the only sounds that of the crickets, resuming their song out the windows. “What makes you say that?”

She idly wondered if any windows were open on the building and glanced up again, but the creature was still there, watching them through the window like it was just seething that it couldn’t reach them. She thought it looked like it may have taken a step or two closer, but thought it might’ve been her imagination. She shrugged. “I dunno. Jane. And Maria. And Wanda. And…” she could feel another blush rise up her face, quickly followed by the brush of his hand as he trailed the coloring with his fingers. “Something my mother used to say.”

A small smile. “Since when do you care about Jane and the girls?”

She shrugged again, self-conscious.

He cocked his head. “Don’t feel embarrassed. It’s only me.”

She swallowed. “When I was a kid, before she left…she used to tell me that I didn’t need a man to take care of me and that I was better off taking care of myself.” She found herself laughing at the turn of events her life had taken. “And…I guess, try as I might, part of me still cares what Jane thinks. I mean, like it matters, right? She couldn’t even make things work with Thor.”

He cocked his head the other way and eyed her. “ _Couldn’t_ or _wouldn’t_?”

She snorted and shook her head. “Good question.”

He watched her, so quietly. “So…?”

She shrugged again, feeling silly. Here they were, pinned down in a horror movie and she was talking philosophically about their relationship. “It’s just…I guess that’s why it took me so long to feel comfortable letting you…”

“Letting me take care of you?” He started pulling on each digit with his knuckles and they cracked and popped and the little massage had her shoulders dropping in relaxation.

She sighed. “And you do. All old fashioned like. You take care of me. I wasn’t expecting how good it would feel—being taken care of.”

A small smile there, on his mouth and she was reassured that they might get out of this alive.

“And mom was an idiot.”

He laughed, low and soft, then looked up at her with those clear eyes. “Do  _you_  think we took things too fast? I mean, if we did, I suppose it was my fault for jumping the gun. I’m the one that pulled the trigger and rolled the dice, I guess.”

She tugged on his hands. “Yeah, but did you expect me to say ‘yes’?”

Just a tiny, tiny chink of vulnerability in his eyes. “Wasn’t sure what you’d say to be honest.”

“Is that why you didn’t give me a flowery speech about wanting to make me the happiest woman on earth for the rest of our lives?”

He snorted. “Nah. I knew you hated that sappy shit. And…at first I tried anyway, but…it wasn’t in me. That all felt so…overdone. I thought you might appreciate it more if I just…put it to you straight and asked you and laid all my cards on the table and…hoped I had a full house.”

She smiled. “Well. That stupid saying is true.”

“Which one?”

“When you know…you just know.”

Their eyes met.

“Yeah,” he murmured.

The moment was shattered with a sound like breaking ice, and they both jumped, looking up to find that the creature had approached the window while they were distracted and was now pulling one single claw down the glass as it stared balefully at them.

Darcy’s heart leapt into her throat as she lunged up onto her knees.

Bucky’s hand settled in the small of her back.

It took her two tries to speak. “Is it…doing that on _purpose_?”

“It’s intelligent.”

“Does that look like vindictiveness in its eyes or is it just me?”

“It’s playing with us. Like a Killer Whale.”

They both stood, and huddled for a moment together.

“This is insane,” Bucky muttered, releasing her from his grip.

And he took a step forward, then another, approaching the glass.

“Jamie… _Seriously_ , all joking aside…” She reached out for his shirt but he was already too far away. “I really don’t want to wear black anytime soon, babe. We were _just_ talking about this.” Fearful tears gathered in the back of her throat, tears she couldn’t hold back any longer as she stared at the wolf, its yellow eyes, its rabid mouth. “Jamie… _Jamie_ , baby…”

He held a hand back to her. “Sshhh…Just a sec.” He stopped, and as he did, the wolf lowered its claws and studied him with eerily speculative eyes. “I’m just…curious.”

“You remember what that did to the cat, right?!” she snapped. “And I’m not talking about _Schrodinger’s_ Cat, baby!”

There was a long moment of stillness.

Then the creature raised its fist—

And thrust it into the glass.

It cracked with a deliberate sort of webbing effect.

Bucky jumped back, grabbing for her. “Curiosity satisfied, let’s go!”

They careened through the building and threw themselves blindly out the back door, and if he hadn’t tugged her to the right at the last second, the creature—waiting for them—would’ve taken off her entire right arm.

They sprinted for the tennis courts, only to find that when they reached them, that they were padlocked with a loop of solid chain.

“Slowing us down, damn it!” Bucky snapped, but tugged on it with his metal hand and tossed it aside as it busted and came free. They clambered through the narrow fence door, but Darcy wasn’t so sure that the thing cyclone fencing would actually keep them safe for long.

But just as it closed in, the wolf stopped clean in its tracks, its head cocked as though it listened to a sound that only it could hear, ears pricked.

Then, howling, it ran off in the other direction, leaving them behind altogether.

Darcy gasped, collapsing against Bucky’s chest and letting his arms hold her up. “ _Fuck_.”

But Bucky was calmer, and he watched it go with narrow, calculating eyes, eyes that reminded her of his alter ego, sharp and hard. “It just…ran off.”

Darcy swallowed and straightened, smoothing her clothes. “God damn, we’re never skinny dipping again. It was a _fantastic_ orgasm, but things are starting to chafe, Jamie…”

“What did it hear?”

She glanced up at him. “What, babe?”

He cocked his head and studied the tree line. “It just…ran off. Like someone was calling to it.”

She sighed. “Yeah, so?”

He frowned. “But what did it hear? I didn’t hear anything and I have enhanced hearing. Did you hear anything?”

Realizing the thread he was on, she frowned in thought, realizing he was right. “No.”

“And did you notice its movements in the med bay back there?”

She gave him a look. “Uh, beyond the fact that it was taunting us like a fucking monster, no.”

But he just stared into the trees, as though expecting it to come trotting back out again with a bone. “Hm.”

She looked up at him, into his handsome face, and ran a finger down some scruff that had grown throughout the day. “What? Hm, what? You’re making that face you make when you’re itching to go Google something.”

He looped his arm around her. “It’s just that it’s not moving the way I’d expect a wolf to move, you know? It hasn’t got a smooth gait. It looks ungainly and jerky, like—”

He was cut off by another blood-curdling scream.

They didn’t need telling twice.

They sprinted up the hill all over again and tripped through the door to cabin C—

Where Pepper was lying in a pool of her own blood.

 

 

Darcy had the errant thought that red hair was strange in that it looked red until it was up against something even more so. Then it just looked orange.

But Pepper’s beautiful hair was fanned out perfectly around her head, and it would’ve been pretty if not for the fact that it was gooey and tacky with her own blood, rapidly pooling and spreading at their feet.

There were three vicious claw marks in her torso, where the creature had taken a swipe—and this time not missed.

Pepper’s chest was ripped open and the gashes were bleeding profusely—

But her chest was still.

Darcy gasped in a shocked breath, her throat going tight at the prospect of Pepper being there one moment and gone the next.

Oh, God…Oh, God, Tony would just fall apart.

“It…It came in over there, and…” Steve was murmuring over and over, looking dazed as he held Natasha to his chest.

The spy was barely blinking, staring down at her friend in a state of raw shock.

Bucky clutched at her, his hands tightening until they were almost painful around her upper arms.

And Tony. Tony was kneeling at her side, half in the pool of blood, just staring. Staring vacantly at his wife.

The door creaked behind them.

Darcy whipped around to find the creature silhouetted in the doorway, snarling.

Everyone cowered away, Bucky pulling at her again.

But this time, she fought him, snatching her shoulders back as something else filled her—

Blind rage.

She didn’t speak. She found she didn’t have the words.

But she did a little snarling of her own as she walked right up to the creature, staring it down for a moment, feeling the heat gathering in her hands and the shivering started quivering through her, the same sensation she’d been learning to yield for months, terrified she might hurt someone she cared about.

But she didn’t care this time.

With a wordless yell, she reached up and slashed at the creature, stepping in close.

It didn’t move.

In fact, it appeared to let her get in, still snarling but too shocked to duck out of her way as she shoved at it.

It fell back with a sizzle, her energy striking it and bouncing off, creating a shower of sparks as she reacted against its body.

Just like—

She gasped as it tipped over backward with a hollow clang and didn’t move.

A small shower of reactionary sparks fizzed and it smoked.

But that was it.

She frowned in something resembling confusion.

“I _knew_ it,” Bucky said from behind her.

She stepped in close, tiptoeing up to the animal—

But found that, on closer inspection, it wasn’t an animal at all.

Behind her, Tony started laugh.

Cackling, really, an uproarious bout of laughter that lit up the dim cabin.

Darcy whipped around, scowling in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Tony gripped his chest, shaking his head, still down on his knees. “I can’t…I can’t…” He was laughing so hard he couldn’t speak.

Bucky brushed past her to approach the creature.

Steve reached out, but missed. “Don’t—!”

But Bucky was too quick, and he crouched for a long moment over the creature, studying it with a scowl, before, very deliberately, reaching out and giving a decisive tug—

Pulling the head straight off of it and hailing them all in a shower of sparks.

It was a _machine_.

Very complicated and elaborate, but it was only a machine, dressed up to look like a real, live wolf creature.

With a gasp, Darcy joined her husband in the doorway, bending over behind him to study it more closely.

It was obvious, really, if you took the time—the non-terrified/running for your life kind of time—too really look at it.

The fur was matted and messily applied.

The eyes were flat yellow discs.

The snout was covered in some sort of goop.

And the limbs—when Bucky reached down to move one around—were clumsy.

Frowning as she put the pieces slowly together, Darcy turned.

Pepper.

Pepper was in tiny cut-off shorts and a bikini top—

Just like Tony’s lame campfire story designed to plant the idea in their heads.

“The look on”—more laughter—“your _faces_!” Tony guffawed, clutching desperately at his chest as he struggled to breathe. “The look on your faces!” He reached down to nudge Pepper’s ‘body’. “Okay, Pep. You can get up!”

And Pepper sat up, alive and well and grinning as she straightened the tiny bikini top. “Happy Halloween!” He reached up to run her hand through her hair, pulling off a very convincing blood-soaked wig.

Natasha was blinking stupidly as Steve stared at her, eyes wide in shock as he struggled to put the pieces together.

“It was all a prank?” Darcy said, her voice small. “A sick _joke_? It was all a game for Halloween?”

Before anyone else could move, Bucky was up again, moving too quickly for anyone to react, until—

_CRACK_!!

Tony was on the floor, clutching his jaw, his laughter officially severed and blood coursing from his nose. “ _Aah_!” he yelled, his voice muffled as he cupped his face. “Ah, you  _punched_  me?!”

Bucky was seething, the Winter Soldier showing through as he towered over the inventor. “You think this is some kind of hilarious _joke_ , Stark?!” he snapped, gesturing back toward Darcy.

“Look!  _Look_  at them!”

Darcy found the wherewithal to join Natasha as Steve went to look at the creature machine in the doorway. She slid her arms around her and Natasha did the same, and she could feel the spy’s heart racing to match hers. Vulnerability and a sense of betrayal swam through her blood that she’d been viciously tricked.

Tony glanced up at them, then did it again, his gaze catching and holding.

Darcy wondered what sort of picture they made, clutching each other for moral support.

“You think this is a _funny prank_?!”

Bucky was livid, absolutely shaking with anger as he stared down at his would-be father-in-law. “You think it’s okay to play a prank like that—chase them around in terror for their lives and then present them with the _dead body of their friend_?! You think that’s _funny_?!”

Darcy let him go; she’d never seen him so angry.

Pepper recoiled.

Tony’s eyes snagged on Darcy’s face, and it wasn’t until that moment that Darcy realized she’d been crying. She jerked and hurried to brush the wetness from her cheeks and sniffled belatedly as Natasha set her head on her shoulder, clearly more disturbed by the whole thing than she’d let on, in typical Natasha fashion.

Bucky finally relented, every muscle in his body tight with menace. “Someone needs to adjust your definition of the word ‘ _joke’_ , Tony.” He turned back to them and did that thing he sometimes did, where he slid easily back and forth from menacing Winter Soldier to soft and tender James Barnes, and his face had completely changed, softened with affection. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low as he slid his arms around the both of them.

Darcy was surprised when Natasha let her head tip down onto his shoulder, but she nodded. “Fine. I guess. You?”

He let his eyes slide shut and the clenching of his jaw so hard he could crack teeth betrayed how furious he was.

Steve straightened, the line of his body curved with disappointment as he shook his head. “Really, Tony? Was that necessary?”

Natasha slipped gently from Bucky’s embrace and went to her husband and Darcy curled into Bucky’s front, pressing her face into his tee shirt. He pulled back to gently wipe at her face with the pads of his thumbs, his touch gentle and his brows concerned. “You’re alright? Are you sure?”

She nodded, letting him fuss over her.

“It was all in good fun,” Tony finally spoke up, finally sounding a little more sober. “See?” He gestured to Pepper, who was busy peeling off the prosthetics along her torso, sticky with fake blood. With a grimace, she gave a tug behind her and a small bag of dark red dye came loose from her back pocket. She threaded the pump from her belt loop and it fell from her hands, a tiny plastic bulb designed to squeeze.

“ _Ugh_ ,” she said. “ _Sticky_.”

Darcy went back over to the machine in the doorway, frowning as she studied it. “It’s actually really poorly done,” she said. “Why the hell were we running from it?”

Tony sighed as he pulled the gauze from his arm. “It’s all about suggestion and fear. There are actually a lot of studies being done about the effect they can both have on a person’s perception. I was curious, and I thought this would be a fun Halloween prank to play. I even added the scratches on my arm. See?” He held up his legitimately injured arm.

Darcy just stared at him. “And I assume you’ve got some sort of hyper-technical remote control that you used to program and control it?”

With a grin, he pulled a small glass and metal box from his back pocket and tossed it to her.

She let it fall at her feet.

His face fell, but he gave her a hopeful smile. “Oh, _c’mon_ , Short Stack! It was all in fun!”

She stepped carefully over the machine with a scowl. “Not. Funny, Tony.”

 

He spent the next half hour chasing them all around, cabin to cabin, trying to explain the humor in the entire endeavor.

But he had two cabin doors slammed in his face.

Steve and Natasha were stone-faced as they kicked the door shut.

Bucky didn’t bother to answer until Tony had yelled that they were being sticks in the mud, at which point he got out of bed, opened the door, and pulled his fist back, sending the inventor scrambling back to his cabin.

He curled Darcy against his front and they fell asleep listening to the quiet night sounds of the forest, katydids chirping, June bugs bouncing off the screen in the door as they were attracted to the porch light.

The morning was even more awkward.

Pepper didn’t meet anyone’s eyes and Tony was still trying to make light of an evening during which a group of enhanced people legitimately feared for their lives.

No one spoke to him.

When he finally threw on his backpack and started off toward the clearing where they’d parked the jet, no one followed.

He spun. “ _Seriously_? You’ve all got your panties in such a twist you won’t accept a ride back to the city?”

Steve sighed. “It’s not that far into the nearest town,” he said. “And I checked—”

“They’ve got a rental place,” Bucky finished, holding his phone. “Should we road trip it?”

The girls nodded.

Tony stared, mouth agape. “ _Seriously_? For _real_?”

Pepper patted his shoulder.

Without another word, they all got up and left, hiking the two miles of peaceful forest until they reached the nearest car rental place. They agreed on a BMW X3 and took off under much better spirits.

“I can’t _believe_ him,” Darcy muttered as she adjusted the radio dial to a classic rock station that was playing Queen. “Actually. Wait. Never mind. I can. I _totally_ can.”

“This takes the cake, though,” Steve said from the back seat.

Natasha snorted but didn’t otherwise comment as she sipped her coffee.

Bucky adjusted the mirror and glanced at Darcy in the passenger seat. “By the way, you snuck out during breakfast. Don’t think I didn’t catch you red-handed. What was that all about?”

Darcy gave him a mischievous smile. “Oh, not much. Tony might be an engineering genius, but I can work a little magic of my own.”

Steve grinned, sitting forward. “What did you do?”

She shrugged. “Just adjusted his password a little.”

Natasha smiled. “What is it now?”

Darcy shrugged, an impish smirk curling one corner of her mouth as she watched the scenery go by out the window. “Oh, nothing too difficult to guess. Just ‘TonyStarkIsAnAsshole’.”

Bucky snorted. “That’s all?”

She winked at him. “Capitalized. No spaces.” 

 

Tony sat down in the bucket seat of the Quinjet with a heavy sigh. “I can’t _believe_ they’re all being so sensitive about it,” he muttered.

Pepper stowed her spare clothes in the bin behind the passenger seat. “You remember, Tony, when you told me your idea in spring, that I said they wouldn’t appreciate it? You _remember_ that?”

He sighed again and gave her a petulant look.

She shook her head and gave him an affectionate frown. “Give them time. They’ll get over it.”

He scowled as he began flicking buttons on the console. “Yeah, easy for you to say—you’re just the accomplice, not the mastermind. You can claim coercion.”

She snorted a delicate laugh.

_Apologies, Sir, but you are no longer authorized to operate the controls_ , JARVIS spoke up, calm and efficient.

Tony blinked. “’No longer  _authorized’_?  _What_?”

_Neither is Miss Potts. Apologies, Sir, but my programming has been recently reconfigured. You are no longer—_

“ _Lewis_ ,” Tony snarled, gritting his teeth.

_Might I also remind you, Sir, that her surname is no longer ‘Lewis’. The paperwork was filed accordingly on July—_

“ _Shut up_ , JARVIS,” he snapped.

Pepper couldn’t hide her snicker.

“What’s the new passkey, J?”

_Again, Sir, I am unauthorized to assist you in any way unless you are able to provide your own verification. Might I suggest a game of Twenty Questions? That was specifically referenced in my new schematic._

He heaved a great, big, frustrated sigh.

Pepper nodded, impressed. “I didn’t know Darcy could code.”

Tony gave her a narrow-eyed glare. “She can do a hell of a lot more behind a computer, Pep—listen to me, I’ve been circumvented and I’m still praising her. Okay, J, is it Animal, Mineral, or Vegetable?”

Pepper snorted again.

JARVIS paused as he thought.  _I believe it is none of those, Sir. Might I employ a set of instructions I’ve found on the internet that I believe applies here. One word. No spaces. Sounds like—_

“JARVIS!!!!”

 


End file.
